


Tres & Radcon

by bittenfeld



Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Abuse of Authority, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sexual Fondling, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4458173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an unfinished bit.  Colonel Radcon of the Istvan Police plans to get his grimy hands all over the new addition to his unit:  Major Tres Iqus.</p><p>Rheumy eyes undressed him sensually. “Tell me, Iqus, have you ever screwed with another man?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tres & Radcon

“Major Iqus.” Through the whiskey haze, Colonel Gergey Radcon of the Istvan City Military Police leered at the smaller man. “Y’know, yer a pretty young man. I always like to get to know all the guys in my squad, ‘specially my officers, but seein’ as how you just transferred here a few weeks ago, we haven’t had a chance to get better acquainted yet.”

With an emotionless expression, Tres Iqus eyed the drunk man at the bar. “That is something I do not regret, Colonel,” he responded levelly.

The rest of Radcon’s squad stood at the bar or sat at nearby tables, indulging in the drinks that their commanding officer bought – as he always did every Friday evening after work. And they all knew better than to interfere with their superior’s lustful advances.

Tres’ retort seemed to go right over the other man’s head. “Tell me, Iqus, have you ever screwed with another man?” Rheumy eyes undressed him sensually. “I mean, sure, you probably do it with gals all the time – as pretty as you are, I’ll bet the ladies throw themselves at you so thick you can walk on ‘em and never get your boots dirty. But what about a guy? You virgin that way, Iqus?” With a toss of his head, he gulped down the rest of the golden liquid in his shot-glass, then clopped the glass down on the bar counter and wiped a rough arm across his mouth, as he considered, “‘Course, Lord Guyla ‘specially likes you. Hmm, maybe you’re His Lordship’s favorite in more ways than one, huh?”

Tres’ expression never changed. “I have never been with a man or a woman,” he answered truthfully. “Including His Excellency.”

Bad teeth showed in a grin. “Oh ho, so you’re _really_ a little virgin! All the way through. Well, well. Well, I’m gonna get in your pants tonight, pretty boy, and you’re gonna have the surprise of your life.”

The smaller man showed no offense at the blatant proposition, but merely announced, “If you attempt such an action, Colonel Radcon, it is you who will receive a surprise.”

The nasty grin widened as Radon leaned forward on his bar stool to wrap a thick arm around Tres’ hips and yank him closer.

But despite his small stature, Tres Iqus didn’t budge an inch.

So Radcon shifted closer, felt the heavy solid heft of the other man’s body. “Damn, you’re hard,” he muttered appreciatively. “Yeah, you’re gonna be a real good fuck, Iqus. Real good.” Again he tried to jerk him close, but still Tres didn’t move.

“Aw, c’mon, Iqus, whut’sthematter? you scared too, like Li’l Bo Peep over here?”

The young patrolman who had suffered Radcon’s fondling earlier, still huddled in the corner where he’d staggered, not daring to come any closer to his commanding officer, but not able to leave the saloon either, without being accused of desertion of his unit.

And just like he’d done with the young patrolman, Radcon reached out a big rough hand to cup the front of Tres’ trousers.

But Tres’ powerful grip grabbed the groping hand. He could have crushed it easily, even though it bore the strength of augmentation, but for the moment he chose not to.

Even through the whiskey haze, Radcon seemed to surmise as much. He frowned. “Hey, what are you, Iqus? You an augmented human, too?”

“Negative,” Tres replied directly. “I am not like you.”

“Well, you ain’t normal, that’s fer sure. You don’t drink, you don’t screw. And besides, you talk funny, too. What the fuck’s with you?”

Tres’ expression never changed. “Nothing is ‘the fuck’ with me, Colonel, and that is the way it will remain.”

But Radcon only lurched forward aggressively. “You think you’re turnin’ me down, boy? Y’know, since you’re not His Lordship’s little bed-toy after all, I think I’ll make you _my_ little bitch instead. Yeah,” the big man bared sharp artificial teeth in a self-satisfied grin, eyeing him slowly up and down again. “That’ll work out real nice.” The heavy hand snuck around Tres’ hips again.  "Yeah," he agreed with himself.  "My little bitch."

. . . . .

 _to be continued_ … _someday_ …


End file.
